


Midnight Drive

by Kavella



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Car Accidents, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, High School, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Teen Angst, im sorry, oh shit hes cute moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:18:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9440102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kavella/pseuds/Kavella
Summary: Keith would call his first meeting with Lance an accident, but Lance is set on calling it a near-death experience. Afterwards, they keep on bumping into each other, and end up going for a car ride where neither of them know where they're headed.





	

It was a crisp, fall night when Lance almost died.

Okay, he _may_ be over exaggerating, or being a bit of a drama queen as Pidge would say, but he _could have_ died. If the car had been going just a few miles faster, and hit him more head on than, like, not at all, he _totally_ would have been road kill. Which, at the time, he probably would have been okay with.

He had stormed out of his home, needing to get some air after his parents had said some back handed insult about gay people. Don’t get him wrong, he loved his parents, but it was hard, sometimes, to hear homophobic comments in his own family, the people who are closest to him. Especially since he discovered he was bisexual.

Deep in his mind Lance knew his parents would accept him no matter what, but that didn’t change the fact that they had said something bad. He knew his parents would change if he came out to them, but comments like that made it a lot harder.

So on his walk to clear his head, he was a little distracted, and didn’t bother looking both ways before j-walking. Apparently, the driver of the car had been slightly distracted as well, since the first moment they were both aware of each other was when the headlights shone on Lance’s body. Somehow, he managed to dive to the side, landing on his butt, and the car stopped in time that if he didn’t dive, he would have been okay.

Still, the near-death experience was not fun, and Lance was going give the driver a piece of his—

“Are you alright?”

Lance stared at the driver, the imagination of his appearance the exact opposite of his actual appearance. The teen looked to be about his age, with dark hair and even darker eyes. His hair was an absolute mess, disheveled and… wait, did this guy have a _mullet_?

“You nearly killed me!” he shouted, shoving his thoughts aside. The teen’s worried glance morphed into one that mirrored his own.

“You walked right in front of me!”

“Don’t you know that pedestrians have the right of way?” he yelled back.

“Not when they’re asking to be hit!”

“I wasn’t _asking_ to be hit! I was minding my own business, until you almost _killed_ me!”

“I didn’t almost kill you!” he protested, and Lance made a pout. He took a deep breath before continuing. “Why are you even out here in the first place?” Lance crossed his arms.

“None of your business.” He stewed for a moment, before asking, “why were you out here?”

“None of _your_ business,” the driver answered, crossing his arms as well. Despite the guy trying to use the same frustrated tone Lance had used, it came out… _hurt_. He eyed the man again, taking in his face, but seeing no cracks. After a moment, in which Lance took it upon himself to begin a staring contest, the driver sighed. “Do you need a ride?”

Thrown off by the question, Lance blinked. Darn it. “What?”

“Do you need a ride?” he repeated. “It’s late, and judging by the way you threw yourself into my path, you have somewhere to be.”

“First of all, I did not _throw myself into your path_ , alright? And second of all, stranger danger man. I don’t even know you.” Lance stood up, his beating heart having calmed. The driver was still leaning against the frame of the car door. In response to Lance, he scratched his head, making his hair seem even more out of place, and spoke.

“Fine. Whatever.” He slid back into his black car and slammed the door. Lance took a step back as the driver sped down the street, running a stop sign along the way.

“What a jerk.”

 

* * *

               

“Guys! Guys,” Lance said over the blaring music, herding Pidge and Hunk away from the group of people and into their own corner. “Mullet guy is here!”

“Mullet guy?” Pidge asked. “You mean, the guy whose car you walked into?”

“First of all, how many times do I have to tell you, he almost _killed_ me. Secondly, yes, that guy.”

“Really? Where?” Hunk asked, poking his head out from the cluster they had formed. Lance pulled him back down.

“Don’t look! He’ll notice.”

“Well, where is he?” Pidge asked.  “I want to know if you were lying about the mullet or not.”

“Okay, don’t look, but he’s across the room, in the kitchen. He’s wearing a red jacket and talking to some buff guy wearing an aviator hat.”

Both Pidge and Hunk stuck their heads up, staring around the kitchen until they saw the guy who fit the description. He stood across the room, behind the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, talking with another guy. Ignoring Lance’s protests, they turned back to each other.

“Oh my god, he does have a mullet,” were the first words out of Pidge’s mouth. “It’s not as bad as I was expecting though.”

“That guy wearing an aviator hat is shady,” Hunk commented.

“Yeah, but what do you think about the mullet guy Hunk?” Lance asked, hoping to get the reaction he was expecting.

“He seems okay. Don’t know what’s up with the cropped jacket though, but you know, he’s pulling it off.” Lance groaned, realizing both of his friends were against him.

“Come on, guys. You were supposed to agree with me here!”

“Agree with you on what?” Pidge questioned.

“That he’s a jerk-face with bad fashion sense.”

“Well, we can’t really tell that just by looking at him,” Hunk said.

“You just said the guy with the hat looked shady!”

“That’s different. I’ve seen him a few times around town. He doesn’t go to Garrison High, he goes to that other school, Galra.” In a more hushed tone, he added, “I think his name’s Rolo, and I’m pretty sure he’s beaten up some kids before.”

“Do you think the guy goes there too?” Pidge asked. “They were talking to each other.”

“It’s possible.”

“Guys, focus,” Lance said. “We need to get out of here before he recognizes me.”

“What? No way,” Hunk protested. “The party just got started. I heard that there was a ping pong table in the basement!”

“Yeah, but I think they’re using that for something else,” Pidge noted, and following their gaze, Lance saw the guy in the aviator hat smack a bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter, and a few people around him cheered. The mullet man was nowhere to be seen. “We should leave.”

Lance, noting the change in Pidge’s voice, didn’t protest. Together, the three of them walked out of the house, the blaring music still thumping behind them.

“Wanna go grab a bite to eat?” Hunk asked, pulling out his car keys. The two agreed and began to cross the street, heading towards where he parked. While Hunk and Pidge got caught up in a conversation about what the ping pong table was being used for, Lance hung back, hands in his pockets, mind filled with thoughts.

Did the jerk really go to Galra? He’s heard a lot of stories about the high school, mostly bad. Lately all the news had been with a clique inside the school that beat up other students. He was just glad he was able to attend the Garrison, because despite all of its problems, at least it was mostly safe. That didn’t mean—

Someone slammed into him, making Lance stumble forward.

“Hey, watch where you’re—” Before him stood the mullet jerk-face himself, looking nothing like he had twenty seconds ago. He was frazzled, eyes wide, hair messy (Lance was beginning to think this was just his normal look), and slightly shaking.

“I… I need your help. My car won’t start.”

“Oh,” Lance said, still in shock that the guy had turned to him for help. “Alright.” Lance turned around. “Hunk, Pidge, bring the car over! We need to do a jump start!” Hunk nodded and continued towards the car.

“Come on,” the guy said, grabbing Lance’s arm. “It’s over here.” Before Lance could protest he was being dragged along the street as a fast pace, stumbling as he tried to get his footing. The guy brought him to the beat down black car he had seen before (up close and personal, might he add) and let go of his arm, crossing his arms as they waited.

“I’m Lance, by the way. I never caught your name,” Lance said, walking over and popping the hood.

“Keith,” he said, giving Lance a look over, and he felt a weird feeling in his knees. “My name’s Keith.”

“Great. Keith is a lot shorter than _the guy who almost killed me_.” Lance looked up at Keith, hoping to get a rise out of him, only to find his head tilted and a confused look in his eyes. “You know. Last week. You almost ran me over with your car.”

“Oh… right.”

“Wait, you _seriously_ forgot about that?”

“I didn’t forget,” Keith protested. “It just… slipped my mind.”

“ _That’s the same thing_!”

Hunk’s car pulled up and Pidge hopped out of the passenger seat, interrupting Lance’s argument. Keith stood, biting his lip as Hunk and Pidge began inspecting his engine. Lance, not one to be good with motors, stood back, watching as Keith’s movements, and noticing he checked the clock on his phone every ten seconds.

“You got somewhere to be, Cinderella?” Keith jerked his head to look at him.

“Who’s Cinderella?” Lance raised an eyebrow.

“You know, Cinderella. Goes to the ball. Fairy god mother. Loses her slipper. The fairy tale.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Are you even human?”

“We have a problem here,” Hunk said. It took all of Lance’s willpower to focus, as he wanted to delve deeper into arguing with the hot-headed possibly-alien jerk more.

“What’s the problem?” Keith said, anxiety coming back into his voice.

“Your battery’s dead as a doornail. There’s no way we can jump start it,” Pidge deadpanned.

“Shit,” Keith cursed, and kicked the front tire of his car as if it would begin to work again through sheer force. Taking a few steps away, he ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, and Lance knew he was stressed the heck out.

“Keith, buddy,” Lance said, worried that he would kick his tire again and break his foot. “What’s the rush?” He took a breath and turned back to them, his forced composure evident.

“It’s nothing. Thanks for trying.”

“I can drive you,” Hunk said, making Keith snap his head to look at him, eyes narrowed. Hunk, unprepared for the ferocity, smiled and gave a slight wave, nervousness evident. Keith turned back to the road and Lance could see the wheels turning.

“No thanks,” he decided, his nervous voice now determined. “I’ll walk. It’s not that far.”

“Really, it’s no trouble—”

“I said I’ll walk.” Keith glared into the reflection on the car, refusing to meet their eyes.

“Oh, alright,” Hunk said. Pidge plucked the wires from Keith’s car, wrapping them up around their arms, and slammed the hood of the car. Lance, slamming the passenger seat closed, took one last look at Keith. He was in the same position, leaning on his car, forearms resting on the metal. His eyes were closed, and Lance noticed he was beginning to shake.

Hunk put the car into drive and they accelerated forward.

“What was his problem?” Pidge asked, their voice agitated, but still concerned.

“I… I don’t know,” Lance answered.

“Hey, didn’t Shiro use to work at the Garrison? Maybe he knew him,” Hunk said.

“Why would he know him if he goes to Galra?” Lance asked.

“Well, technically, that hypothesis hasn’t been proven, so there’s a chance he goes to the Garrison.”

“I don’t think so,” Lance argued. “I would have noticed him before.”

“Well,” Pidge said. “It won’t hurt to make sure. It’s only eleven, we can ask him tonight.”

“Wait you want to go see him right now?” Hunk asked. “It’s late at night! He’s probably at home, sleeping. And besides, I thought we were gonna go get food.”

“Nah,” Pidge scoffed. “Allura and him took the late shift tonight. They’re probably still working at Voltron.”

“There you go, Hunk!” Lance responded, his energy coming back to him. “We can get pizza _and_ ask Shiro. Drive faster!”

“Lance, for the last time, the speed limits exist for a reason!”

 

* * *

 

“I’m back,” Keith whimpered. Stone cold eyes meet his gaze, confirming the fears he had replayed over and over and _over_ in his mind. “My car broke down, I couldn’t get it to—”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I was at a friend’s, they live a thirty-minute walk—”

“You should have left earlier.”

“I know,” he admitted, looking down. “I should have left earlier. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The man sighed. His body continued to block the entrance to his home. Silence came over them and Keith shivered. The warmth from the open door skimmed the front of his body, beckoning him to embrace it and escape the cold darkness behind him.

“You know the rules.”

“Please, it won’t happen—”

“No. You get home on time, you hear me? You’re not going anywhere in life if you can’t be places on time.” Keith looked down at the porch. There was no point in arguing. “This is for your own good.”

The warmth left him.

 

* * *

 

“I’m baaaaaaack!” Lance sang, walking into the mainly empty diner, due to the late hour. “Oh, how I missed you so, Voltron Pizza Shop.”

“Lance, are you ever going to stop saying that when we walk in here?” Pidge asked.

“Nope. Never.”

“Hey guys,” Allura said, switching the tray full of empty plates to her other hand. “The usual?”

“Actually,” Pidge explained, “we’re just here to talk to Shiro.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lance said. “I’ll have my usual.”

“Same here!” Hunk added.

“Alright. I’ll tell him you’re here,” Allura said, eyeing them with suspicion as she walked away from the group. The three walked over to their usual booth by the window. Lance slid in next to Hunk, while Pidge opted to sit across from them.

“Hey Pidge. Lance. Hunk,” Shiro greeted, taking off his rubber gloves, leaving drops of soap water on his shirt. “What are you guys doing here?” Allura came after him, setting down Lance and Hunk’s piece of pizza.

“You were once a student teacher at Garrison High, right?” Lance asked, eager to learn more about this Keith guy. Shiro slid into the spot next to Pidge, and Allura followed.

“Yeah, four years ago. What about it?”

“Did you know someone by the name of Keith? He goes to Galra and has a mullet,” Lance responded.

“Keith Kogane, yeah, I know him. Is he alright?”

“Well,” Hunk said. “We were at this party, right? And we’re leaving because this shady guy pulled out some beer. And we’re walking outside when he comes barreling into Lance because his car breaking down.”

“So, we go over and help him,” Pidge continued. “And when we realize the battery is dead as a doornail, which is honestly a miracle it didn’t happen sooner, that car was old as fuck.”

“Language,” Shiro cut in. Pidge scrunched their nose.

“Anyway,” Lance continued. “Once Hunk and Pidge couldn’t fix the battery, he flipped out kicked his tire and was acting worried about something, and when we offered him a ride home he didn’t take it. So, we wanted to know what’s like, up with him.” As soon as he finished speaking, he shoved the last bite of pizza into his mouth.

“If he goes to Galra, he was probably worried about that clique, or in it,” Allura said, crossing her arms.

Shiro sighed. “Keith was a good student. He still goes to Galra, but not because he wanted to. He actually went to the Garrison first. That’s how I know him.”

“Really?” Allura asked.

“What? No way,” Lance denied. “I would have noticed if he was in our school.”

“It’s true. When I first started teaching, he was a freshman. He was probably the smartest kid in the class, but he didn’t get along with others that well. I still don’t know why he got kicked out. One day he was in my class, and the next he vanished off the roster. I asked my boss about it but she just said he transferred to Galra, but that’s not something that usually happens.”

“Really?” Lance asked, confusion on his face.

“Yeah. The Galra is known for being unsafe, so the students who go there are unfortunately all people who want that sort of environment, since it’s a private school. Most kids, if they didn’t get into the Garrison, go to Balmera High.”

“Alright. We were just wondering,” Hunk explained.

“Allura! Shiro! Time to close up!” came Coran’s voice from the kitchen.

“Is it that late already?” Hunk asked, glancing down at his watch.

“Time is an allusion, Hunk. Don’t worry, you’ll get home in time.”

“Pidge, not this again,” Hunk groaned. “You’re going to make my brain hurt.”

Together, the group stood up from their table and parted ways. Allura and Shiro went into the back to help their boss close down, while Lance, Hunk, and Pidge walked towards Hunk’s car, the warmth of the restaurant gradually fading as they joked around.

 

* * *

 

Lance couldn’t sleep.

After Hunk dropped him off, he wandered aimlessly though his house, greeting anyone that was still up (AKA most of his family – his house never slept) before ending up in the garage. His brother’s and his shared car was there, and without anything else to do, Lance hopped in and started it. The clock read midnight, but he turned on the radio and drove.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith walked along the paved street, his fingers curled into fists and shoved deep into his jacket pockets, attempting to keep them from going numb. His nose and ears burned as he tried to keep walking. Looking up, he hadn’t realized he wandered into an alleyway until it was too late. A figure pushed off from leaning against the wall and begin moving towards him. Even though he had a suspicion of who the figure was, it did not calm his fears.

Turning, he hurried out of the cul-de-sac and stepped into the street, only to see bright lights out of the side of his eyes. He knew it was a car. He knew it was about to hit him. But he didn’t move. He just stared.

The car screeched to a stop, coming close to hitting Keith, but not close enough to do any damage. The car door shot open.

“What the hell, man?” he shouted, and Keith recognized that voice.

“Lance.”

“Dios mío, you gave me a heart attack. Have you gone apples and bananas?”

“Lance,” Keith said again, glancing back in the alleyway, only to find it empty, despite the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He turned back to the teen. “Sorry,” he said, shaking off his shock.

“Uh…” he said after a moment. “What are you doing here?” Keith took a breath, pushing the thoughts of the (real or imagined) figure in the alley aside to focus on the conversation.

“Walking.”

“Walking?” Lance repeated, raising his eyebrows. Damn. He wasn’t going to let this slide. “In the middle of the night, in a deserted alley. You’re walking.”

“Yes,” Keith responded, holding his ground.

“That’s really shady, man.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Well, now it is, since you shot out in front of my car. Déjà vu sort of a thing, I guess.”

God, this man was infuriating. Why couldn’t he just leave him alone? It’s not like he knows anything, or cares about him. He was just getting his hopes up, like always, that this time would be different. But no, everyone who comes into his life leaves him. Why do they even try anymore?

“Keith?”

“What do you want from me?” he exploded, his voice betraying him. Stray pieces of trash rustled from the wind as a beat of silence washed over the two. He was panting, his thoughts running a mile a minute as he stared at the pavement, ashamed at his outburst.

“Do you want a ride home?” Keith whipped his head to look in his direction, dumbfounded. Lance merely shrugged. “It’s pretty cold out. And besides, it’s not stranger danger anymore, since I know you. Sort of.” He looked down at the pavement again, biting the inside of his lip. “Please,” Lance said, and Keith couldn’t hold out any longer. Walking up to the car, he opened the door and slid in. Lance did the same, and once both doors were closed, another wave of silence hit them, more unsettling than the first. He could feel Lance’s eyes scanning him, but instead of asking questions, Lance shifted gears and began driving.               

Lance drove up and down every street nearby, his stops jerking and short, hitting the curb every other turn. After ten minutes of this, Keith could not help but chuckle, which morphed into a laugh, and soon he was crying from the lack of breath.

“You’re… a terrible driver,” Keith gasped, wiping a tear from his eye and looking at Lance. His look of concern and mild confusion changed into one of amusement (and mild confusion), and _goddamn_ Keith didn’t even realize it, but Lance was drop dead gorgeous.

“You’re an even worse driver!” Lance shouted, failing to hold back the smile forming on his face.

“I know!” Keith admitted, surprising even himself, but he didn’t regret it; as soon as the words left his lips, Lance burst into laughter, tilting his head back into the seat, his chest heaving as he laughed along with him. Keith turned to look at Lance, and it was as if time froze. Lance was looking ahead, jawline sharp, his skin radiant. His lips. He seemed to be glowing, as a bright light shone from behind him, illuminating—

“Lance!” Keith grabbed the steering wheel, jerking it to the right before the car slammed sideways, sending his head into the dashboard, his body jerking as the car slid, and everything went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there peeps I hope you enjoyed! I will update soon hopefully. Follow me on tumblr: voltronvoid


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